


Almost Identical

by mescalinen



Category: Eddsworld - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Gender Changes, Angst and Humor, Angst with a Happy Ending, Bloating, Bottom tord, Bottom!Tord, Comfort/Angst, Consensual Kink, Dom Tori, Dom! Tori, Dom/sub, Dominatrix, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Food Kink, Genderbend, Het, Heterosexuality, Kink, Light Angst, No Slash, Porn, Selfcest, Stuffing, Sub Tord, Top Tori, Top! Tori, Woman on Top, feederism, i had to perform cpr to bring this ship back to life, i know no ones gonna read this, implied sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-28
Updated: 2018-12-01
Packaged: 2019-09-01 23:28:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,304
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16775086
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mescalinen/pseuds/mescalinen
Summary: An alteration between universes causes the female counterparts of Tord, Edd, Tom and Matt to be stuck in their universe.After getting to know his female counterpart closer, Tord begins to explore their similarities and differences, growing closer to her than he should.





	1. I’m you, and you’re me.

**Author's Note:**

> i wrote her name as torid but now im too lazy to change it im sorry

Tord scratches his chin as he searches for a fresh shirt in his closet. He opens a drawer and is met with a red bra that has been stuffed lazily inside the drawer.  
Tord grits his teeth. Ever since there was an alteration between their universes some months ago, their female counterparts had been stuck in their dimension, having to live with the four. Edd was still trying to find a way to get them back, but Tord was still impatient.  
Sure, Tom’s female version was pretty much a born model under her oversized clothes, which Tord had seen when they were dragged to the beach. And even if she was as much of a selfish shit as Tom himself, Tord had had plenty of time to admire her from the side.  
But the the rest of them Tord couldn’t stand. Especially his own female counterpart. With her smart answers, shitty comments and constant cynism, Torid pissed Tord off more than any of them.  
Tord had made a pathetic attempt so somehow befriend her on the first day they met, but she had shut the door to herself in Tord’s face.  
So now, after Torid being an asshole to him for all these months, Tord was absolutely furious and disgusted to find _her_ article of clothing in _his_ drawer.

  
‘Torid!’ he yells, ‘why is your shit in my closet!?’

  
His female counterpart lazily strides into his room and walks over to where Tord is standing. Torid glances at Tord with a raised eyebrow, picks up her bra and starts to walk out of the room.  
She is stopped by a firm hand grabbing her shoulder.

  
‘I tried to be nice to you, but this is the last straw! Stop leaving your shit in my room!’ Tord fumes at her, but Torid is apathetic to his anger.

  
‘Technically,’ she begins with a smug expression, ‘it’s our room.’

  
Tord is about to interfere but Torid puts a finger on his lips.

  
‘And not in the Communist way,’ she huffs, ‘I’m you, you’re me. So this is equally my room as it is yours.’

Tord slaps Torid’s hand away from his face. ‘That’s not how this works, dumbass.’

  
‘It—‘

  
Torid is interrupted by the sound of glass shattering and then yelling. She gives Tord a glare and they both run downstairs.

They come to Tom, his female counterpart, Tam, and a broken plate on the kitchen floor. Both Tom and Tam are yelling insults and blames at each other.  
The watching smirk at each other and roll their eyes.

  
‘Alright, alright,’ Torid steps between them, stepping over the shattered plate, ‘what’s going on?’

  
‘Are you actually blind?’ Tom growls, earning a slap to the cheek from Tam.

  
‘Don’t talk to my friend like that, cocksucker!’

  
‘Don’t break plates in my friend’s house, bitch!’

  
‘Calm down!’ Torid yells, making the two shut up. ‘Let’s remember what we do in situations like these.’

‘Try to find a solution?’ Tom suggests, still frowning.

‘Try to understand each other?’ Tam guesses.

  
‘No, and no,’ Torid grins and shakes her head. ‘Blame everything on Tord.’

  
Tord instantly grits his teeth and clenches his fist. ‘Why, you—‘

‘That’s actually a reasonable idea,’ Tom smirks.

  
‘Excuse me?’ Tord huffs.

  
‘Excused,’ Torid snaps. ‘Now go plan out  
apologies before your Edd comes home and kills you.’

  
‘Pff,’ Tom waves a hand at Tord dismissively and leaves, followed by Tam.

  
Tord is left standing with Torid. He frowns at her and steps behind her, opening drawers and getting out snacks.

  
Torid looks at him oddly.

  
‘So, no yelling? No screaming, no cursing, nothing?’ she asks, almost unbelievably.

  
‘Nope,’ Tord shrugs, ‘just gonna eat something to calm myself down.’

Torid walks up to Tord and pinches the pudge on his thigh through his crewneck. ‘By the looks of you, I’m guessing this isn’t a rare occasion.’

It’s true, whenever Tord would feel anything negative, he would always get some food, a good movie (horror ones especially), and warm blankets. Tord never said it was healthy, and he knew it wasn’t the best solution, but it was the easiest way to avoid any useless emotions that might cause discomfort in the present or near future.  
When Tord finishes packing snacks for his room, Torid is still standing there. Tord can almost hear her judging him just by looking at her eyes. He can’t blame her, for he was exactly the same.  
He knew he always judged a book by its cover, but for him it seemed to always work, so that was fine, he guessed.

  
‘Wanna watch a movie with me?’ Tord suggests. He figures Torid likes whatever he does, anyway.

‘Sure, why not.’

* * *

Tord blinks tiredly at the screen. There’s about ten minutes left of the two-hour movie. Empty bowls and packets are scattered around him and Torid, who is leaning on Tord’s bed, asleep.  
Tord uses this moment to reach down to unbuckle his belt and unzip his jeans, which were almost suffocating him. There’s a red line printed accross his stomach from where the hem had pressed the hardest. Tord leans against his bed, too, only half-watching the television as he slowly rubs his round, full stomach. He yawns and then hiccups in between. Tord then sighs, closing his eyes and smiling to himself in content.

  
‘Tord.’

  
Tord’s eyes shoot open and he sights up straight immediately, pulling his crewneck down to hide his stomach.  
When he looks over to Torid, his cheeks burning, she huffs a laugh and pats Tord’s stomach, sitting up.

  
‘You do realize,’ she grunts, ‘that we are technically the same person.’

Tord narrows his eyes, not understanding what Torid meant by that.  


His female counterpart rolls her eyes and lifts her black sweater, to which Tord’s eyes widen in surprise. Her stomach is exactly like Tord’s — soft with laziness and now packed with food.

  
‘You. . .’ he begins, blinking several times, ‘also. . .?’

  
Torid laughs at him, ‘I hate to be the one to tell you this, but we do share sexual fantasies.’  
Tord’s cheeks ache with heat as Torid says so. How can she be so laid back about this? Wasn’t she so ashamed, so disgusted with herself? Tord concludes that this is probably the only thing they don’t have in common.

‘Well, what do you say?’

  
‘Hmm—?’ Tord looks up at Torid again, and he realizes she had said something. ‘Oh, sorry, I— I didn’t hear you.’

  
‘I said,’ Torid rolls her eyes, ‘that we could use this perfect chance to share our little kinks with each other.’

‘Oh.’ Tord wonders for a moment. Maybe this wouldn’t be such a bad idea. When else would he get this opportunity? Plus, it would technically mean he’s just trying it with himself, right? Right. ‘Sure.’

  
‘Cool!’ Torid gleams at Tord and begins to take her sweater off, throwing it away. She glances at Tord, but he is looking away. ‘Hey, don’t be so shy. I’m you, and you’re me, remember?’

  
‘Um, yea,’ Tord nods, looking over to Torid.

  
Torid has the exact same body as him, except curvier and, well, female. Tord feels like a pervert looking her all over, but he remembers what Torid told him. She was him, and he was her.

  
He takes off his crewneck and shuffles off his pants, sighing with relief.

  
Torid is already in her undergarments. She crawls over to Tord, outlining his stomach curve with her finger. She grazes her nail gently against the pink imprint left on Tord’s belly by his jeans and lets out an annoyed _tsk_.

  
‘Your jeans are too tight for you,’ she murmurs.

  
Tord huffs, ‘so are yours.’ He reaches over and squeezes Torid’s stomach, making her let out a soft grunt.

Tord cackles at her and she slaps his stomach real hard. Tord moans softly at that and Torid’s face expression changes into a smug smirk.

  
_Oh no_ , Tord thinks. He wants to hit himself in the face for moaning. He swore he wasn’t going to show his weaker side to Torid, and now he did. He knew perfectly of his desires for dominance, which meant that Torid experienced them likewise. Tord prays that he won’t end up being under Torid tonight.

  
‘Did you like that?’ Torid whispers, smiling dangerously, squeezing Tord’s stomach and rubbing it harshly. She presses down firmly on it and Tord begins to squirm. ‘Judging by your everyday actions, I’d suppose you would be making me your bitch already,’ Torid grins, ‘but looks like today’s a night full of surprises, hm?’

  
‘To— tonight—‘ Tord huffs, cheeks red.

  
‘What?’

  
‘You— you said ‘today’, but you’re sah— supposed to say ‘tonight’. . .’

  
‘How dare you correct me!’ Torid slaps Tord’s stomach even harder and he moans loudly. She hits him again, but this time, when he tries to make a sound, a hand is slapped over his mouth. ‘Do you want others to hear us?’ Torid growls.

Tord shakes his head.

‘I didn’t think so. Now shut up.’ Torid removes her hand from Tord’s mouth and reaches for an unopened cola lying around.

Torid opens it with a satisfying fizz. She moves herself on Tord’s lap, inhaling the carbonated drink. Instead of drinking it herself, Torid brings the can to Tord’s lips.

Tord gulps and looks up at her with frightened eyes, but he is met with the unmerciful expression of his female counterpart.  
Tord finally starts drinking the cola with his eyes shut tightly. The soft drink doesn’t feel soft at all. In fact, it seems as if the weight of boulders is being added to Tord’s stomach as he continues drinking.  
Tord stops to catch his breath and hiccups, due to Torid drawing clockwise circles on Tord’s tight belly.  
He’s never felt so bloated, but here he is, seemingly reaching his peak and breaking his own record. And yet Tord feels that Torid has something else planned in her wrecked mind as she is watching Tord suffer.

‘Tell me if it’s too much, okay?’ Torid leans down and kisses the tip of Tord’s nose.

Tord looks at Torid in disbelief. Moments ago he was praying to whoever’s up there so that Torid wouldn’t kill him, and now she was being so gentle? Well, Tord couldn’t complain.

‘Okay.’

* * *

After a while, Tord is already through three of the cola cans. He’s breathing heavily. Tord feels as if his stomach can burst any second. It’s bulging and tight, the skin almost tearing, and the stomach itself gurgling and complaining at the fizzing liquid on top of the unhealthy food that’s been stuffed inside it.  
Tord moans softly at Torid’s massage. Her skilled hands move all around Tord’s belly, pressing on the hurting places and occasionally kissing the tight skin.  
Tord feels hot and unsanitary.

‘You wanna stop?’ Torid asks, rubbing Tord’s cheek softly with her thumb.

‘Yea,’ Tord admits, panting, ‘would be nice.’

‘Sure.’ Torid, oddly, doesn’t seem dissapointed. In fact, her gaze is caring, worried and protective, her dark brown eyes sparking at Tord with emotion.  
Torid leans down and kisses Tord on the lips softly. She stays like this for a short moment before sitting back up. After all, Tord requires extra oxygen right now.

Tord looks up at her vulnerably. Even in this odd situation, he feels so cared for. He figures it’s because Torid is his female counterpart, and everyone knew Tord loved himself, which meant Torid loved him, too. And he her.

I don’t, um. . .’ Tord begins, but then trails away. Torid waits for him to continue. ‘I don’t want you to leave.’

‘But I’m not going anywhere.’

‘No, I mean, ever. I don’t want you to return to your world,’ Tord says quietly.

‘Wouldn’t that fuck up our universe?’ Torid frowns, blinking a few times.

‘I don’t care!’ Tord sits up, straightening his back. ‘Please. . . don’t leave.’

‘I. . . I won’t,’ Torid murmurs, but she doesn’t look at Tord.

Tord turns her face to him.

‘Promise me.’

Torid lets out a cold huff.

‘You know damn well we don’t believe in promises.’


	2. Disturbed privacy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yea im keeping her name torid

‘Tord, what do you choose?’

Tord blinks a few times, fazing back to the Real World and averting his attention to the speaker. He realizes everyone’s looking at him and twirls his hoodie strings between his fingers.

‘Tord. . . ?’

‘Huh?’

Edd sighs loudly in dissapointment, rubbing his temples and then rolling his eyes. 

‘We’re doing a vote to see where we wanna go—‘

‘Airsoft, maybe?’ Tord pinches the hoodie string.

‘—to eat.’

‘Oh, uhum,’ Tord huffs a nervous laugh, his cheeks feeling warm around his nose. ‘I don’t really mind,’ he says, looking over to his female counterpart.

Torid gives him an odd look that Tord cannot decode. She looks around and then mouths something to Tord, but his skills in that region are lacking.

‘You sure?’ Edd asks.

Tord turns his head slowly back to Edd.

‘Yeah.’

Tord hears Torid slap her palm on her forehead. He frowns and tries to ignore her for now.

‘Okay, then. We’ll go to the regular.’ Edd looks at his watch, ‘we should start getting ready. In fifteen minutes we should _all_ ,’ he gives Matt and Matilda a glare, ‘be standing at the doorway.

The seven people mumble their agreements and they all begin to shuffle their ways to their rooms.

As Tord is walking, he feels someone pinch his side and he turns around, fuming.

‘ _What_?’ he says, teeth gritted at his female alternative self.

‘Nothin,’ Torid mumbles, pushing her way past and into Tord’s — _their_ — room. It might as well be, judging by how long Torid had stayed in it.

Tord huffs and walks in after her, shutting the door behind him. He raises an eyebrow as Torid gets out her clothes.

‘It’s not gonna happen,’ he states.

Torid pauses and looks up. ‘What isn’t?’

‘What, um,’ Tord blushes, ‘what you think is gonna happen at the restaurant won’t!’ he says, shuffling to his closet. 

Torid snorts at him and takes out a pocket mirror. 

Tord throws his clothes off and then puts on his pants and a shirt. He is buttoning the shirt when he feels Torid close behind him.

‘There’s no need for that,’ she whispers, making Tord swallow his saliva audibly. 

‘What?’ Tord pretends he doesn’t know what she means.

Torid snakes her large hand to Tord’s stomach and trails her finger down the hem with buttons. ‘By the end of this night, none of them will be left standing,’ she promises. 

Tord shudders, but then, to his relief, the door is opened. Torid jumps away from him and continues looking at her small mirror, pretending to fix her eyebrows with gel and an applicator.

Tord smiles softly when he sees Tam walk in. The girl averts her gaze from Tord in respect and walks over to Torid.

Tord looks away from her, but he hears Tam whisper and Torid get something out of her bag. The door then closes.

‘What did she want?’ Tord asks.

‘Monthly products,’ Torid huffs at him, waving a sealed pad in her hand. Tord turns away, blushing.

‘What? You’ve never seen a women’s hygiene product?’ Torid laughs, walking over to Tord, who takes a step back.

‘I’ve seen them at a distance I think was respectable enough,’ Tord mutters.

‘Well, here, you’ll need it,’ Torid shoves the pad into Tord’s pocket, ‘I mean, it _is_ made for pussies.’

* * *

Tord blows out the smoke from his mouth, tapping his cigar. He glances at his watch. 

‘They always take forever.’

Tord huffs his agreement at Tom’s comment.

They were waiting for Matt and Matilda to leave the house. Tom and Tord stood outside, while the rest sat in the car.

The cold air suddenly sends a strong breeze and Tord’s unzipped coat opens up a bit. He sees Tom’s eyes fall on something below.

‘What. Is that.’ 

‘Huh?’ Tord blinks, confused.

Tom points to Tord’s lower region and Tord follows the direction, which leads to his pocket, and the contents of it. Tord’s cheeks fill with color. 

Tom walks forward and takes out the pad Torid had placed in Tord’s pocket. He gives Tord a look, waiting for an explanation.

‘It’s, um. . . I—‘

‘I asked him to keep it for me. I ran out of space.’

Tord turns to see Torid and sighs with relief.

Torid snatches the sanitary pad from Tom’s hand.

‘“Ran out of space?”’ Tom grunts, ‘what do you keep that makes you run of space for something this small?’

‘Nunna your business,’ Torid narrows her eyes at Tom. She glances at Tord and gives him a wink.

‘We’re done!’ Matilda’s voice echoes.

‘Finally,’ Tom mumbles, walking to the car.

‘Thank you,’ Tord says to Torid.

‘No worries.’ Torid pinches Tord’s cheek and skips to the car, followed by Tord.

* * *

‘That’ll be it,’ Edd nods to the waiter.

‘Wait—‘ Torid raises herself slightly.

‘Yes, ma’am?’ the waiter asks, clicking his pen back open.

‘Could you double the portion for me?’ 

Tord’s eyes widen in surprise and he looks down.

‘Of course,’ the waiter nods, writing it down. ‘Is that all?’

‘Yes, thank you.’ Torid sits back down. 

The waiter takes their menus and leaves. Instantly after that the table fills with talk, who about what.

Tord turns to Tori. ‘ _Double_ _portions_?’ he whispers, ‘are you sure you can handle that?’ 

‘With your help I can,’ Torid grins.

Tord swallows thickly as he realizes what Torid had planned.

‘Uhum.’ He pulls at his collar and plays with it. 

Torid brings Tord’s hand away from his neck gently. ‘Don’t be nervous.’

‘I’m not,’ Tord huffs, raising his chin only slightly.

* * *

Tord is almost falling asleep when Torid begins shaking his shoulder violently, and he jolts up.

‘Huh—?’

‘Your food’s here,’ Torid smiles, pushing plates to Tord.

‘Oh.’

Tord brings his bowl of mushroom soup closer and takes a look at the others. He sighs. Hopefully they’ll be as distracted as they are now the whole time.

‘What’re you waiting for?’ Torid urges.

‘Calm down,’ Tord frowns at her.

He takes a spoonful of the thick soup and blows air on it gently to cool it down. He slowly begins drinking it, spoon by spoon, enjoying the wonderful taste and texture.

‘You’re so slow!’ Torid whispers to him and takes the object of cutlery from Tord’s hand. She takes a spoonful of soup and shoves it into Tord’s mouth.

Tord lets out a muffled sound, almost spurting out the soup from his mouth. He frowns and swallows it, then wiping his mouth with a tissue.

Torid takes more spoonfulls and continues feeding Tord, who frowns at her but knows it’s no use to try to make her stop, because he knows nobody can stop him from doing something, either.

The soup is almost finished, and nobody had noticed that Torid had been practically babying Tord this whole time, thankfully. Except Tom, who had given Tord a dirty look more than once, but in reply he received a smug, careless expression. 

‘Done with that,’ Torid says, patting Tord’s stomach and switching the plates. 

Tord is now met with a large bowl of Italian mushroom and lamb risotto. It smells delicious, mouth-watering, so much that Tord can almost taste it just by hearing the smell.

‘You really do like mushroom, huh?’ Torid snorts, taking a fork of risotto and pulling it away, the string of liquid parmesan cheese elongating into thin, cooling strands and eventually tearing. 

‘Depends on which mushroom you’re talking about,’ Tord says and grins at Torid. 

She huffs with laughter and then begins feeding the risotto to Tord.

Surprisingly, he already feels full within the first five or so tries. Tord figures it is because the mushroom soup was so thick in density.

‘I’m done,’ Tord announces to Torid.

He should have known he cannot slip away from her that easily.

‘Who said so?’ Torid challenges. 

‘What?’

‘You’re done when I say you’re done, understood?’ Torid hisses in Tord’s ear, grabbing his stomach tightly and squeezing it until it hurts. 

Tord lets out a shaky breath. ‘Understood.’

Torid narrows her eyes at him, takes the fork, and continues stuffing Tord’s face with the Italian rice dish.

After some time, Tord’s stomach is already pushing against his pants. He squirms and tries to get his fingers in between his belly and pants hem to push them down, but his fingers don’t fit. So Tord is left to suffer.

‘Come on,’ Torid persuades Tord to move further, ‘you still need to leave space for my food and dessert.’ 

‘Can’t,’ Tord whispers.

Torid rubs circles on Tord’s distended, tight stomach, pressing down gently. It gurgles against her palm.

‘Almost done, Tord, come on,’ Torid pats Tord’s belly softly. 

Tord groans and allows her to feed the rest of the risotto to him.

When he’s over with that, Tord has to breathe in cut, short breaths. He feels too embarassed to unzip his pants or undo his buttons, but all of them are digging into Tord’s skin, making the situation harder for him. Not only that, but the feeling of the _mass_ of his stomach makes it even more difficult. The way it pulls his back down, making it almost impossible for Tord to sit straight; the way it desperately wants to spill over the tight restraints; the way, the way. . .

Tord’s mind spins, confused and torn apart between pain and a sexual spark. 

Wait. . . _what_?

_Oh, no_. Tord swallows thickly and tries to imagine the most disgusting things he can place into his mind in a desperate attempt to keep his erection from appearing. Unfortunately for him, the package had already been shipped out, and the sender doesn’t accept refunds.

Tord squirms on the couch seat, trying to hide his dick by moving it to lay flat. But looks like today isn’t Tord’s lucky one, as Torid sees him before.

She snakes her hand to Tord’s knee and squeezes it. She releases her grip and makes rubbing motions alongside Tord’s upper leg, pressing down everywhere she can reach her fingers to.

Tord pulls at his collar again.

‘Tord, are you alright? You look pretty red,’ Edd says, eyes flashing with concern and what Tord hopes isn’t suspicion.

‘I’m fine,’ Tord huffs, giving a laugh.

‘Hmf.’ Edd turns away, thankfully not questioning any further.

Tord breathes out through his nose sharply as Torid’s hand settles on his inner hip, almost meeting his dick. 

Tord wants to tell her to stop, and he figures he has to, if he wants to save whatever is left of dignity he still has, but he doesn’t. Instead, that pervert recalls all his sexual fantasies and scenarios that had played through his head over and over again until the characters recognized their roles by heart. He almost cannot believe he is experiencing one of them, no matter how embarassing it is do admit he is giving over the dominant role to a woman.

Tord feels he is close to cumming from this situation, and he slowly rides his hips against Torid’s hand.

But he isn’t given that luxury.

‘Torid, pass me the salt, please,’ Tord hears the voice of Edd’s female alter self.

Torid’s right hand moves away from Tord and fulfills Ell’s request.

Ell will never know what that hand that had given her the salt shaker had been doing only seconds ago.

‘Alright,’ Torid turns back to Tord, ‘time for dessert.’

Tord almost, _almost_ , reminds Torid that she had said he would eat some of her food, too, but he saves himself in time.

Torid moves the plate of waffles to Tord, and he has to admit that he had even gotten hungry for the first moment.

There were two big, crunchy and perfectly prepared waffles. Around them were a line of cut strawberries and a line of thinly sliced banana. On the waffles was a pool of thick yet liquid schocolate syrup, lastly snowed on by a blizzard of powdered sugar and a delicate mint leaf on top. 

Torid notices Tord’s sudden enthusiasm. ‘That’s the spirit,’ she cackles, patting Tord’s belly.

At last she takes that fork and cuts through the waffle, the syrup spilling slightly. She pokes on two slices of banana and brings it to Tord’s mouth. He opens it and recieves the vibrant taste with a warm welcome.

Tord is so enwrapped in the taste that he doesn’t notice when Torid has already moved onto the next waffle, which Tord finishes too. 

Finally, Tord leans against the couch seat and places a hand on his extremely packed stomach. He presses with his knuckles to his side and brings a hand over it completely. Tord’s belly, even though he is leaned back, pushes with immeasurable pressure against his pants and shirt.

Tord figures this is the only chance he’ll get to fix the situation in his pants, so he moves it around and shuffles over until his erection is hidden.

He breathes slowly, watching as his stuffed stomach moves up and down in rhythm.

Tord then looks over to Torid, who is watching the entire situation, her cheeks brushed with a light pink. Tord smiles at her and hiccups. Torid smiles back and take Tord’s hand.

‘You did amazing,’ she says, and Tord shrugs in reply.

* * *

The bill is paid, and the eight are leaving the restaurant.

Tord covers his belly with his coat.

Once in the car, he is panting softly, waiting to arrive home, take all his clothes off and finally go to bed. His eyelids tremble with sleepiness.

‘Don’t think about falling asleep,’ Torid murmurs in his ear, and Tord’s back and side are instantly scattered by goosebumps.

‘Why?’ Tord huffs.

‘Because when we get back, we have a lot yet to do,’ Torid grins at him.

Tord laughs and smiles contently.

So now he cannot wait for sex, and _then_ to go to bed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> proofread now :)
> 
> please say if you see any mistakes


End file.
